Present Tense
by Psalm23.6
Summary: As the Avengers save a Russian town, Black Widow meets a child that will soon capture her heart and open her up to the possibility of a relationship with another Avenger.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! Thank you for checking out my new fanfiction! Please leave a review with your thoughts, I enjoy any and all criticism.**

"Unexplained explosion in Siberia, right on the border with Russia, as physically close to where you claim the Red Room was we can find on a map," Maria Hill informed as she slid pictures across the giant touchscreen for Captain America, Black Widow, Falcon, Vision, and Scarlet Witch to see. "But close enough to hurt a town. There's also a giant wall trapping all the citizens of said town with all the poisonous gases, fires and earthquakes that said explosion caused. Airborne units can't even get in because of smoke from the blazes. We're the only people in the world that can."

"It's a trap." Black Widow remained cool in her analysis, but Steve could see her fingertips trembling. "Unexplained explosion, trapped innocent, inability for anyone else to attempt rescue. They want us."

"It doesn't matter." The Captain stood. "We're going."

She shook her head once, silently protesting, before pushing herself from the easy chair and marching down the hall towards her rooms. "Wheels up in twenty."

'Apocalyptic' was the first word that entered Sam's mind as he jumped from the helicarrier to fly towards the town square. Even from this height he could hear the screams of pain, the shouts of fear, the crackling of consuming fire, the falling of rocks, the miniature explosion of various cars and propane tanks. The unexplainable wall jutted high into the sky and he almost collided with it due to the haze of smoke. Thankful for his oxygen mask, he dived into the city at a dangerous tilt, determined to get there as fast as possible.

Black Widow and Captain America joined him via parachute as Vision and Scarlet Witch flew around the city looking for cracks in the walls to either help pedestrians out or get additional aid in. They scattered effectively, gathering everyone in the square to be loaded onto the helicarrier, stopping looters, trying to put out fires, pulling bodies from piles of stone, carrying the young and the old, providing oxygen and food and water, bandaging wounds, and so on. Another miniature explosion rocked as they went about, and each Avenger carelessly threw themselves over someone else as bricks rained and another fire could be heard roaring to life.

"Is everyone evacuated?" the Captain shouted over the intercom, depositing one last elderly man onto a bench to wait for the helicarrier that suspended itself above them hopefully.

"One more family old man." Black Widow responded breathlessly. "Their house is half caved in but Vision detected life from above. Start loading, I'll be there soon."

"Fire has consumed another third of the previous houses we emptied. I can't go back for survivors, my wings will melt and I'd be trapped in the streets."

"I tore apart those houses already." Scarlet Witch informed him. "There was a goat."

There was silence as the available ones returned and began helping people up the deployed helicarrier ladders. Vision and Falcon flew the oldest and the youngest, while Scarlet Witch controlled fearful ones by putting calming images in their heads and Captain America created order on the ground. When half the people were loaded he turned, searching for the familiar red curls that so often helped him in keeping others calm.

"Nat?" Silence. "Vision, can you see Nat?"

"She's still in the house sir."

"Can one of you go get her?"

"Yes sir." Falcon dived towards the bombed district, landing amongst debris on the street and calling inside the house's skeleton. "Nat, we gotta go!"

"I can't leave her!" Her voice sounded wild, near deranged, but didn't project over his intercom. She must've taken it out. "They'll get her Sam, that's what all of this is for!"

"Can I come in?"

Her voice shifted to a whimper, "yes."

He crawled inside the hollow space and sucked in a breath at the sight of normality and havoc. On one side of the kitchen, china stood in even rows in a beautifully crafted cupboard with frosted glass. Meanwhile he stood in the wreckage of the other side, an entire wall gone with insulation and splinters underfoot, the oven charred and overturned. Taking out his intercom, he called quietly, "Nat?"

"Upstairs."

Upstairs seemed risky, as the stairs sagged not with age but impending collapse as he climbed them, but his wings could carry both him and others out of any situation safely, so he ascended anyways. Passing one room he froze, unable to look away but filled with shame at such an inability. Two adults lay on the floor with twisted faces and half-melted flesh while odd splotches of yellow and green stained almost every porous surface of the room. A gas canister, no bigger than one typically used for soda, sat cracked open on the master bed.

His voice shook as he called, "Nat-"

"I know. Just keep walking."

He obeyed, ever a diligent soldier, until he was at the end of the hall, having passed two empty bedrooms (one caved in from an explosion) and a laundry room and three bathrooms (two destroyed but with the assumed function based on their size). A light flickered and he stepped into it, mentally steeling himself for more death and destruction, but found something quite to the contrary. It was a small family room, probably used for privacy from the one downstairs that situated itself on the road with windows for all passerby, and Natasha had used wooden debris and her own brilliance to construct a fire in the fireplace. She sat cross-legged on the floor, something wrapped in a blanket in her lap, barely rocking but daring to move enough to glance back at her teammate.

Her eyes were wet, but he didn't mention it. Her voice dripped similarly enough that questioning her anguish would be stupid. "I can't leave her."

"Then carry her. I bet an explosion or another fire is headed this way right now. Cap's got half the people loaded. She'll fit easily."

"She won't leave her parents or her home."

"Well neither of you can die here. I'll get her parents, you get her out of the house."

At the sound of voices the child stirred and looked over the lip of her blanket. Her eyes widened when she saw the suited, winged man and her voice, coming from a parched throat and tangled with sleep, softly questioned him in a language he couldn't identify.

"She wants to know if you're going to help." He nodded, keeping eye contact with the girl, who spoke again while Natasha translated. "She wants to know if you'll help her parents." He nodded again. "Can she go with them wherever they go?" A third nod. "Do they have to leave the house?" A fourth nod. "Can we take her mother's china?" A fifth nod. "Can she bring her doll?" A sixth nod. "Will her friends be where we're going?" A seventh nod. "Will there be food and water?" An eighth nod. Another question left the child's lips, but this time Natasha froze, eyes wide. Instantly the girl was looking between them, confused and scared and unable to understand the sudden pause. Finally, the redhead cleared her throat and whispered, "She wants to know if the ballerinas will be there." With honesty he shook his head no, unaware of any specific ballerinas travelling with them, albeit confused. Ballerinas were everywhere. If she wanted to be a ballerina, she could be one in America too. Nat's strange pause wasn't clarified either, but there was no time as a nearby bomb caused the window to shatter.

Without thought both adults dived over the little girl, who whimpered and shoved herself further into the woman holding her. They waited for the explosion to rock through the building before moving, Sam first going down the hall and holding his breath as he stacked the two deformed adults in his arms and flew them out of a hole in the room. Quickly checking behind him as he flew to the helicarrier, he saw Black Widow carrying the blanketed child into the streets towards the near-empty square.

"We got em all Cap."

There was an audible exhale. "Good to hear soldier."

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review with your thoughts and stay tuned, I have more chapters coming. God bless!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know this is a short chapter, but I hope it's satisfactory. Please let me know what you think!**

Anya Gleb was the name of the orphan Natasha had rescued. They searched amongst the other survivors, but no one claimed kin, and Fury was tempted to leave her in an orphanage in another part of Siberia, but Natasha was instantly against it.

"That's exactly what happened to me and the Red Room swallowed me whole. No one from that town goes back to Europe. They're legal immigrants, seeking asylum."

"Romanoff-"

"That's where they collect people Nick!" She was screaming in his helicarrier office. "That's where they collect orphans to train and adults for experiments and targets. That's where I lived and that's where my parents died and in a situation just like that is how those people found and collected me. Anya is not going to an orphanage and those people are not going back. The KGB will hunt them down if they step foot on that continent again. We're taking them to America, changing their names, and legally preventing their passports from ever permitting international travel. And I don't care how improbable it is, you're doing it." She stormed out, ignoring their calls, and went back to Anya, who sat in her lap for the duration of the flight.

When the time came for registration, Natasha had changed clothes and wordlessly stepped forward with the child, telling the attendant, "Natasha and Anya Romanov."

She filled out paperwork as if she were the girl's mother, fabricating everything with ease so that not even Fury, who later insisted upon having a copy of the document, could tell without foreknowledge that it was fake. The government now assumed there was another Natasha Romanov who was the widowed mother of a girl named Anya who was fleeing the destruction of their Siberian home due to a local gang war. The situation was so typical and the names so common that no one would blink twice. Even Captain America, with all his law-abiding piety, couldn't help but smile at the ridiculous perfection.

But it was also the Captain that spoke to her after the child had dozed off in the car on the way back to the Avenger's tower. "Does she even understand what's going on Nat? That her family is dead and you just adopted her?" He shook his head and glanced at her at a red light. "Do _you_ realize what you've done? You're a mother now Nat. You're-"

"What was I supposed to do Steve? Let her become the next great assassin? Leave her to be abused in foster care? Allow all the memories of her old life to fade into the nightmares of a present you would never understand?"

"I've had my own share of nightmares." The engine roared as he sped away as soon as the light turned green, as if he could speed away from this conversation and his memories.

Her voice and face softened. "I know. But the nightmares she would have gone through . . . I can't let that happen. Just like you protect everyone so there's never another Bucky-Winter Soldier."

He nodded grimly, his jaw twitching, and they remained silent until he parked under the tower and carried her daughter into the elevator, down the hall, and to the bed. He watched from the doorway, mesmerized by the maternity the assassin somehow possessed, as she changed the child into a nightgown and tucked her into the spare side of her bed with a kiss to her hairline. He turned around as the grown woman changed and turned back when he heard the rustle of sheets. An unconscious smile lifted his lips as he watched her fold herself around her new daughter, a protective outer layer. Silently, he offered to turn off the lights, but she shook her head and he knew why. The nightmares always came. And when they did, waking up to light was somehow more comforting. It re-established reality faster, although even this reality would be strange to little Anya.

He mouthed 'goodnight' and shut the door. Later, it seemed that his own nightmares were chased away by the sight of unexpected love.

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review with any and all criticism. God bless!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for continuing to read! All translations were done with Google Translate, so if they're wrong I apologize. Please enjoy. :)**

"Mama! Papa!" The screams and thrashing woke Natasha instantly. Anya was sitting up, pulling away from the stranger, screaming in Russian.

She was to the door before the woman was out of bed after her, running down the dark halls of her private floor, for the first time grateful for the amount of intimate space afforded. Otherwise the other Avengers would be waking, flocking, and terrifying the child even more.

"Anya, zhdat' (wait), pozhaluysta (please)!"

The familiarity of Russian finally made her slow, although her four-year-old legs had carried her far enough that there was still safe distance. Nat didn't know if she should be glad that the girl knew to run from strangers or worried about her easy flight. What tortures might she already have lived through?

In quiet Russian, the redhead explained it all. Her parents had gone to Heaven. The other families from her village were in a hotel nearby. She wanted to take care of her since her parents were now gone. They were safe here because this was America. Her doll was waiting in her suitcase by the first door she had run out of. Her name was Natasha and she was an Avenger, one of the good people that had saved her village.

This seemed to answer all of the girl's questions except one. "Yavlyayutsya baleriny zdes' (are the ballerinas here)?"

"Net (no)."

Cautiously, she returned to her new guardian and allowed herself to be carried back to the bedroom they had occupied. Inside it, she was given her doll, and this time when they climbed in bed together she asked for the lights to be turned off. They reminded her of the flash that had taken Mama and Papa away.

They slept soundly until the morning, when Anya woke in momentary confusion, almost afraid again, before remembering the earlier conversation. JARVIS had somehow gotten clothes ordered for the newest resident, and so the morning was spent bathing and re-dressing before Natasha cautiously took her to the main floor for breakfast, explaining to her who else would be there and why.

Of course they entered the room just as Thor was heartily throwing a coffee mug to the floor, effectively smashing it to smithereens, and asking for another cup, having just returned from Asgard where coffee was unavailable. The motion sent Anya racing back towards the elevators but unable to open them due to her lack of presence in the automated system that controlled everything. Unable to escape the towering, china-smashing man, she curled against the silver elevator doors trying to disappear.

"Anya, vozlyublennaya (sweetheart), it's okay." Natasha sat on the floor beside her and pulled her into her lap. "Thor is from a place where smashing their dishes is a compliment." The child looked doubtful. "He is big and loud, but kind, like a teddy bear." She stood, still holding her, and felt her tiny arms tighten around her neck. "He won't hurt you. And if he ever tried, I wouldn't let him."

Their previous presence in the doorway hadn't been noticed, so life in the kitchen and dining area had remained jovial despite their disappearance. Hawkeye was the first to step forward when they reappeared, smiling kindly to the girl while giving Natasha a hug from the side her new little one wasn't clinging to.

"I made pancakes and the two of you are welcome to them." He squatted slightly so he could see into the child's eyes. "Kak vas zovut (what is your name)?"

"Anya." She whispered back, still glued to Nat's side, the fear in her eyes melting only a little bit.

"It's nice to meet you Anya. Do you like pancakes?"

"I don't know."

"Well then you're going to find out." He marched back to the pile that Thor was reaching to devour and slide them smoothly out of his grasp. "These are already taken. Bruce will have to cook you another batch." At a separate table designed for two, Anya and Natasha sat across from one another, the redhead smiling encouragingly as Clint placed a single fluffy pancake onto the child's plate. Handing the remaining stack to the other adult, he appropriately buttered, cut and drizzled syrup over it before stepping back and pushing it closer to her. "Please, try it. I've done my very best."

Her little lips lifted in the smallest smile before reaching for the fork, spearing a square, and setting it in her mouth. Momentarily, the two adults worried about the sweetness of the syrup, the amount of butter, the thickness and texture of the pancake itself. This was all for naught. The second she had swallowed the first delightful square she was reaching for another, obviously hungry and obviously pleased.

"You must slow down little one. Don't get sick." Natasha smiled, placing two pancakes onto her own plate.

 **Thank you for reading! I will do my best to continue to update. As always, I request your feedback. Have a great day and God bless.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ta da! Chapter four, as promised. Thank you for continuing to read and, as always, please leave a review.**

Her ability to understand English proved useful, though she preferred her native Russian, although no one besides JARVIS and Natasha could speak the Slavic tongue fluently. Clint, when present at the tower, taught her English while she taught him Russian, delighting the girl with compliments and squeezing hugs. His own family, though, took precedence, and so he was not around often enough to dispose of this affection. Anya refused it from everyone else, preferring either Natasha or solitude.

This proved a problem when another mission came up, one requiring the stealth of Black Widow and Hawkeye. Explained in simple terms to Anya, the child insisted that she go with them, Natasha unable to truly explain the dangers of the mission to such a young child. Pepper, the other most permanent resident of the tower, offered her care, even claiming that Wanda could be brought from the training facility if need be. The child was resilient.

"You won't come back." She tearfully explained when repeatedly asked why Natasha could not go without her. "I must make you come back."

There were not enough motherly kisses, not enough fatherly hugs, for the duo to bestow that would make her stay and wait for their return. Finally, crazily, Fury decided to use the young opposition to his advantage.

"You'll take her as your cover story. Tell her it's a game or something. Take Scarlet Witch, she can be a babysitter and back-up."

It was agreed, though the two hated needing back up and Wanda resented being thought of as a babysitter. Anya, though, seemed happy about the arrangement, and agreed to the terms that they were to play a family while venturing along the African coast. The mission was to 'displace' a warlord who was supposedly trying to recreate Iron Man, although the child believed they were traveling to help a man move and she would enjoy the beaches with her 'older sister' while her 'parents' labored.

"An old friend." Natasha translated when the child did not understand the meaning of 'acquaintance.' "We do not know him well, but we are helping anyways."

She was proud of her new guardian for being so kind and thoughtful. Tony chuckled at the irony before sending her on the way with a new watch, which she was told to wear at all times. Natasha had refused to allow an implanted tracking device.

The plane ride was smooth, though neither Strike Team Delta nor Scarlet Witch was accustomed to traveling business on civilian aircraft. Anya was delighted, happy to chew gum while her ears popped, gladly accepting the offered orange juice, chatting amicably with fellow passengers about the beaches of Africa she was going to visit while Mama and Papa helped a friend. Despite the strangeness of the errand, no one seemed suspicious. With such a thick accent and being so young, she was probably translating the trip wrong anyways.

The hotel was middle class as to not raise suspicion. Clint and Natasha had stayed in much worse places while on missions, so neither complained. Anya, having never traveled from her old town or the Avengers tower, had nothing to compare the service to. Now and again Wanda wrinkled her nose, aware that a higher rated facility would have been better, but made no verbal comment. A clean pool provided enough distraction so that Strike Team Delta could be briefed without worry before their all-day trek to the mountain the warlord had tunneled out and made into his lair. Wanda, babysitting, was sent an electronic script of the entire conversation as if she was just another Western teenager watching her younger sister and wasting time on her tablet. Despite the number of insurgence the warlord had, there were no threats made and no suspicious activity. Their arrival had been a success.

 **What do you think? Please let me know! God bless. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! Thank you so much for all the reviews, I appreciate all of them. I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I promise to update soon. Enjoy!**

Anya chose to believe the entire plan and spent a happy day on the beach and wandering with Wanda through tourist markets. Every shiny thing caught her eye and begged to be touched, much to the humor and disgust of the shopkeepers. Twice her young hands fumbled, almost forcing an item to be bought, and this activity was reported via phone call to Natasha at the end of the evening.

"You must not touch things Anya." She disciplined when the phone was handed to her child. "At the very least you must ask."

"Yes Mama." She sounded sad, but not tearful, which was taken as a good sign, as well as the use of 'mama.' Natasha felt bad for taking the title, but understood that both for the mission and the child's stability, the name was necessary. "Mama, why aren't you back yet?"

"Papa and I are staying the night with our friend. The trip to his home took too long to come back to the hotel tonight. You stay there with sissy and we'll be back tomorrow."

"Then will you leave again?"

"Yes, but not forever. And I promise we are being careful. I know this is a new place and houses are full of heavy things, but Papa and I will be fine. Understand?"

"Yes Mama."

"Good. I love you Anya."

She could hear the child smile. "I love you too Mama."

It warmed her despite the falling rain that had soaked through their makeshift campsite. Strike Team Delta had spent many nights in the rain in many different places, but for the first time she felt an ache in her chest because of it. She could be warm and dry in a hotel near the sea with her new daughter and friends. Even better, she could be snuggled deep in her bed in the Avengers tower, her child to her chest. Or she could have just introduced Anya to Clint's family, watched the three play all day and then collapse together in the guest room that night. She wondered briefly if such scenarios ran through Clint's head often, having had a family for so long. The rain quieted her questions though, and they took shifts to watch and sleep. Completing a mission had never felt so important.

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review. God bless. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'll preface this chapter with the disclaimer that I suck at action scenes. This chapter is possibly the worst in the entire story. I apologize.**

They snuck into the warlord's camp as the fresh dawn colored the sky. One false move and they knew they would be detected, an impossibility considering the two people who they knew to be sleeping peacefully in a hotel miles away. Every step must be careful. No footprints, no sounds. She moved like her name, crossing mud and rocks before scaling the wall like it was nothing, Hawkeye's own silent footsteps and quiet arrows ensuring safe passage. He followed her, though not quite as smoothly, onto the second floor of the warlord's establishment. Black Widow turned off the cameras with a single click of an electronic blocker, which made a string of curse words float from a nearby room. A door opened and a man came out, smacking the equipment and muttering something about 'cheap crap.' The two people in black clothes blended easily into the shadows against the wall. The man didn't notice them.

Creeping along the poor wooden halls would have been a challenge for anyone besides Strike Team Delta. The uneven wooden boards, probably nothing more than glued down debris, would have caused every other Avenger to trip or make noise. Their quiet boots did nothing. Reaching the appointed door, reportedly the warlord's bedroom, seemed almost too easy. Getting inside was as well, Black Widow putting in the necessary code as if she had used it all her life.

The man was in his bed, sleeping as all men do. They double checked for any other signs of life, having heard about guard dogs and prostitutes, possibly even an illegitimate child. Hawkeye crept to the man's bedside, making sure it was actually him. On previous missions there had been similar substitutes, people who recruited twins to lay in their beds and give their speeches and so on. This was him though, they were sure. Hawkeye's sharp vision detected the slight differences between reality and doubles and with one slight nod, Black Widow had the silencer on her pistol and placed a bullet through his head. Sliding on gloves, they rolled him over so that the small bloody spot wouldn't be recognized until someone physically touched him. Black Widow unplugged his alarm clock and turned off his cell phone. Hawkeye adjusted the air conditioning down several degrees so that the odor of death would be less detectable. One more sweep of the room proved their work was done.

It would be harder to get out. The sun had risen more, eliminating more of the shadows they always stuck to. Most likely the security officer they'd seen earlier had gotten the cameras working again, though they had jammed the inside ones after the outside ones, so they'd be safe inside for several extra minutes. Someone had probably discovered the outside guard Hawkeye had downed with his arrow. By now they were probably searching for assassins.

"You!" A guard turned a corner and saw them, immediately sprinting.

"2-2-4b?" Black Widow breathed.

"Why not?"

She went up one wall, he momentarily ran up the other. She jumped onto the guard's chest, Hawkeye tackling him from behind so that she had better control. One twist and his neck was snapped and his body almost collapsed on top of hers from the force of her partner.

"You gotta pull at the legs, not slam on the back. You almost pinned me."

"You called the plan. You know I prefer 5-6-7."

"That doesn't mean you don't perform the other plans to precision."

"I did. I tackled hard because he was big. Now come on."

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review. God bless :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**We're almost done with my horrendous action writing, don't worry. Nevertheless, please enjoy.**

They'd barely turned the corner when they heard someone find the body and start jogging in their direction. Hawkeye positioned himself against the wall as if he'd been injured in his escape. Black Widow hid in the ceiling.

As soon as the guard rounded the corner and went to grab her partner she dropped onto his shoulders while Hawkeye slammed into his torso. The twist and tackle went off smoothly, but another guard had already seen them. An arrow kept him from radioing anyone else.

"We can go up. Come on."

Black Widow dragged her partner through the ceiling to the roof, the top pf the cave still towering above them as a shield from any inclement weather. They were careful to only step on pipes and not tiles or insulation, therefore ensuring they went undetected. Or they thought they did. Bullets ripped through the ceiling tile directly above the last body they had left, the one they had used to start their path. Too clean of a getaway. The only option had been up and the guards knew it.

"They'll be expecting us on the roof."

"I know."

It took roughly a dozen arrows and a round of bullets to clear the first guards from the room. No doubt there would be more. Luckily it only took a moment to orient themselves, and they were down the wall just as the next wave came up.

"We know you're still here!"

The sound of gunfire ripped through the morning air just as Hawkeye, checking their distance over his shoulder, tripped over a tree branch. It took only a second to right himself and continue sprinting after his partner, but they felt a shift from confidence to danger nonetheless.

"Did he have a patrol unit?"

"Fury didn't mention one."

"They'll be people out here regardless."

"I know. Go up."

They took to the trees easily, climbing high into the branches until they could jump to the next tree. Several times bullets whizzed by, but always significantly lower. The guards were assuming they were still on the ground. The duo made sure to keep it that way, making no more noise than a group of squirrels might. Once or twice gunfire was too close to risk a jump, should a guard appear. No one bothered looking up this time.

By the time they were in the clear they were both sweating and panting. Black Widow had hurt her ankle after it got stuck between branches and she had no choice but to rip it free. Hawkeye had hurt his wrist colliding with a tree trunk when he jumped slightly less gracefully than his partner. Still, compared to past missions (like Budapest), they'd done remarkably well. They'd avoided all cameras, or at least had their backs to them, had ended the assigned target, and had escaped with minimal injuries.

They walked back to where they'd made camp the night before, bathing in a secluded lake and dressing in an extra pair of somewhat wrinkled clothes. Their weapons were stashed in backpacks beneath the old pairs of clothes. Natasha didn't forget that Clint was supposed to be her husband, carefully slipping on the fake wedding ring as they began descending to the nearest populous.

"Are you going to feel guilty?" It was a quiet question, one he'd never asked before.

"Why?"

"Returning to a child who thinks you did no more than help a friend. Build up a lie that someday she'll probably figure out is a carefully constructed story that will make her question your integrity and honesty."

Her jaw twitched minutely, only enough for a partner such as Clint to notice. "No. I'm protecting her. Protecting thousands of people just like her. She'll be able to remember what happened in her village. If she ever asks, I'll tell her I was preventing a tragedy like that from ever happening again."

"By assassinating someone, just like the bad guys do."

"The world is not split into good guys and bad guys Clint Barton. We are both quite aware of that."

"But is she?"

She sighed, studied the trembling edges of the pink dawn that was trying to overstay its welcome until sunset called it back again. "She'll understand someday."

Neither brought up when that 'someday' would be.

 **Thank you for reading! I will do my best to continue updating regularly. Please leave a review. God bless. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for opening this fanfiction yet again! I've had so much fun writing it and I love getting to share, especially since we're in a hiatus right now (until May 6th of course- HELLO CIVIL WAR). Happy reading. :)**

Anya was delighted to see her mother and father, the older sister relieved to have free time. The news exploded about a 'local scientist' found dead in his home. Anya asked if that was near their friend. They said no.

They spent an extra day so that the adults could go to the beach before flying out. Fury debriefed them as soon as they got in the car, Anya asleep with jet lag. It was successful. Natasha should have felt accomplished. She didn't. All she could think about, as she watched New York City go by, was about what she'd done. What if he had been a father? He'd been a terrible, terrible man, possibly even abusive, but still. What if he wasn't? What if at the end of the day he sat down to dinner with a son or a daughter? What was that child thinking right now, as a coroner looked at their father's dead body? What would that child think as they attended the funeral for their dad? Years from now, what would that child be, without a father in their life?

The feeling of guilt was new to her. Before now she had been fairly sure the Red Room had disabled her ability to feel guilt at all. It came in waves now, in questions that would never be answered. She wondered how Clint dealt with it, being a father himself.

She asked him as they unpacked in the Avengers tower. "How do you do it? Take out a man that could be a dad just like you, then go home to your children as if you've done nothing of consequence?"

"Laura helps." He tossed her the gun she'd let him borrow in case he ran out of arrows. "She reminds me that no matter what I've done, I've done it for the right reasons."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"It's not an intention. It's reality. Yesterday we prevented a man from creating an Iron Man suit that would have caused international havoc. Maybe he was a father. Maybe that child will miss their father and spend years wondering about him. But there will be a someday, just like there will be a someday for Anya, when that child will grow up and realize that the world is not split up into good guys and bad guys. They will understand that just because their father was their father, that does not mean he was good. And just because someone killed him, does not mean that that killer is bad. You said it yourself Nat. There are religions and ideologies and so on, that believe in absolutes. I'm sure they're there. But what we did yesterday was not an absolute. What we did was paint a portrait of a thousand shades of gray, some lighter and some darker, that each person will view through their own lens. We cannot stop someone from seeing only the dark. We cannot stop someone from seeing only the light. We must embrace, for our own sanity, that we see the whole portrait, and that eventually someone else will too."

For a moment they were quiet, but then she chuckled and hurled a pillow at him. "Who knew you were so elegant and philosophical Barton."

He laughed with her. "Sometimes I can be."

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you have the time. God bless.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello! Thank you for coming back for another chapter. This is just some day-in-the-life stuff, hopefully fluffy enough to make into clouds. I hope you all enjoy it!**

It didn't take long for Anya to learn enough English to go to school. She was excited to go and meet children her age. At first the yellow school bus was intimidating, but she grew to enjoy it. Waving out the window every morning became a tradition that the entire team looked forward to. No matter who was at the tower, everyone inside it was invited. Dressed in layman's clothes, sometimes even pajamas, the Avengers became a familiar sight to the children on the bus.

Iron Man's heart glowed through the t-shirt he slept in. He didn't wear slippers and apparently seldom combed his hair.

Captain America had an old pajama set of a matching button-up shirt and pants in cobalt blue. He put on old sneakers if it was cold.

Scarlet Witch came outside dressed, always with a dash of red in her outfit, although the girls noted that her hair and makeup weren't yet done.

Vision made it a point to fly from his room to the ground to wave at the bus. At first this caused a great sensation, but soon his cape and suit were commonplace.

Falcon, War Machine and Thor were noticeably missing, as they did not live in the tower. Hawkeye made irregular appearances in old t-shirts.

The Incredible Hulk wore a purple t-shirt and gray sweatpants to bed. He always came out holding a steaming cup of tea.

Black Widow was always dressed, often in jeans and a black shirt, though they had a variety. Her multiple personas meant she had a large closet.

There was a blonde woman, someone normally only recognized by the older children as Pepper Potts, who often came outside with Iron Man. She was generally well dressed, professional despite the early hour. They admired her.

They also admired Anya, who never rode the bus home. It became a game for the other carpooled children to guess who in what would arrive to collect her on that particular day. One of the most regular arrivals, although always in a new car, was Iron Man. Anya had picked up the habit of calling him Uncle Tony, running to whatever fancy contraption he was driving in that day and climbing into the safety seat in the back that Natasha had forced him to temporarily install despite its 'lack of coolness'. JARVIS was programmed into the small chair at Tony's insistence, and so the seat buckled itself around the smiling child.

Sometimes Captain America showed up in a small red sports car that gleamed as if no bug dared to touch it. He always got out of the car, let Anya run into his arms before quickly settling her into the approved car seat and driving away. He made sure to never hold up the line, always conscious of those waiting behind him. She took to calling him Uncle Steve.

On rare occasions Hawkeye rolled up in an old white truck, waving out of his window at young fans as she climbed into the backseat smiling, excited to see Uncle Clint. She always asked if Aunt Laura had anything for her, as the woman often bestowed Lila's old trinkets or fresh cookies whenever he came into the city.

Most often, though, it was Black Widow in a sleek black car. She always pulled into a parking space, waited for the next round of cars to stop and collect their children, before strolling through an opening in the line and taking Anya into her arms. After a tight hug that the child always returned, the redhead slung the tiny backpack over her shoulder, took her daughter's hand, and returned the two of them to the car. Clicking her into the seatbelt took longer than anyone else, as she asked questions about the five-year-old's day and double checked every strap. The teachers in charge of carpool noticed the attention to detail, the sincere focus the assassin had on every word that fell from her child's mouth, and they talked about it among themselves. It would be a lie to say they weren't surprised by the woman's gentleness and care, so different from the superhero that sometimes appeared on television.

"Motherhood changes you." One pointed out.

"She adopted her only a year ago."

"Does it matter? Love binds tighter and faster than anything."

None of them could deny the truth.

 **Thank you for reading! Please drop me a review if you have the time. God bless. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Happy Monday! Well, in the lovely state of Virginia it's Monday. I'm not sure about the rest of the world. Either way, here is a happy Monday update of some reality but also some hope in this family situation. Enjoy!**

The peachy public life, though, was not an exact mirror of their home life. On busy Saturday's Anya was often shifted through the team. First was always Natasha, but she couldn't teach deadly attack methods with a five year old attempting to climb their rock wall without a harness in the background. Promising she'd see her at lunch, she sent her to Steve. Weapons class, though, was also no place for a five year old who screamed every time something deadly was present and attempted to climb into her uncle's lap. He didn't mind the attention, tried to provide comfort, but it was a _class_ for a reason. Wanda, Vision, War Machine, Falcon, and other SHIELD agents were the students of the classes, meaning the last reliable person young Anya was sent to was Pepper Potts. This meant that, by default, she was going to Tony.

Tony was not a reliable babysitter, especially since most of his Saturdays were spent in his lab. Miniature explosions, sharp objects, and hazardous materials were not supposed to be near little ones. Pepper always did her best to control her boyfriend's mess and keep an eye on the child, but paperwork and a mad scientist boyfriend were both distractions that meant Anya was only being watched 50% of the time. If Tony had been an actual adult he would have covered the other 50% and there would be no problem, but he concentrated on his science experiments and hot brilliant girlfriend for 45% of that time, meaning his niece went unsupervised 55% of the time, which was too high of a percentage in a Stark lab.

Ironically she was then handed over to JARVIS, as if an automated intelligence system could care for a child better than two adults. It worked though. JARVIS could tell her to stop running on the slick kitchen tile, could invent games, could speak Russian, could help with homework, etc. He spoke to her kindly, did everything like an actual human except be tangible. At first she rebelled against this system, often returning to Natasha in tears. Eventually, though, she understood the necessity of her cooperation. JARVIS gave her more freedom than any real adult, even permitting her to play on the roof in the bright sunshine and sweet wind, which she enjoyed. He could prepare food faster than anyone else. He produced new toys and photographs of her parents upon request.

The last request was done often. Almost every Saturday she called up a new picture. She touched their faces, would lay on the floor with them projected over her if she had trouble napping. Sometimes JARVIS positioned them to be sitting next to her on the floor, mimicked what might have been their voice based on Anya's descriptions, so that they could play with her. He didn't report this activity to anyone, but Anya often brought it up at bedtime.

"I played with Mama and Papa today."

"Did you?" Natasha would smile, ask what they had played, kiss her on the forehead and go to her own bed, before questioning JARVIS. "Do you think that's wise, bringing her dead parents back?"

"She misses them Ms. Romanov."

"Of course she misses them. But I doubt it will help her heal if she can just recall them into her life."

"Would you like me to contact a child psychologist for you then?"

She often considered doctors, counseling, therapy. Anya had, at the age of four, survived a war-like experience, lost her parents, moved across the ocean, and been adopted into a new lifestyle. So far her progress had been positive, making friends and learning English and establishing uncles and aunts. Her biggest setback was nightmares, which Natasha thought stemmed from the weekly 'visit' with her parents. The next three or four days following the 'visit' Anya would wake screaming for Mama and Papa, thrashing in her bed to escape fires and gas and bombs, sometimes even running to escape the ballerinas that Natasha knew were from the Red Room. Apparently the village girls had been attending 'day classes' there before being sent back to their parents. The sight of tall, skinny, pretty girls with haunting eyes and secret scars terrorized Anya even a year later. The only comfort was to be held in her new mother's arms, whom she referenced as Mama Nat, and to be sung to. Music calmed her down, soothed her back to sleep along quiet melodies. Such peaceful songs would never feature the ballerinas she had encountered for the past two years.

Eventually Nat ordered the 'visits' to stop, originally causing havoc as Anya wanted her parents with her as much as possible, but soon there was obvious good. Her nightmares decreased. She appeared more present in her current situation than caught up by her past memories. Her affection was more genuine. She began noticing small details as only a child could. She gave Natasha hope.

 **Thanks for reading! Please drop a review if you have the time. God bless. :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello! Thanks for coming back. I use some Russian words in this chapter, as I did in earlier ones, and I want to clarify that all of that is Google Translate. If it's wrong, I'm very sorry. Nevertheless, please enjoy!**

No one knew exactly why Anya began pulling Steve and Natasha together. Perhaps she noticed small details that escaped the attention of adults. Perhaps she simply had a good feeling. Perhaps she wanted a father figure, not just uncles, and Hawkeye was away too much and already married. Regardless of the reason, she began insisting to be with both at the same time. If Mama Nat wanted to take her out to dinner, she wanted Uncle Steve to come too. During playtime she wanted Mama Nat to voice the mommy doll, Uncle Steve to voice the daddy doll, and she voiced everyone else. Sometimes she sat beside him at meals or sat in his lap during movies, requiring Nat to sit beside him. At night she often requested his bedtime stories and lullabies. The adults took it as favoritism, often joking about the affection. They wondered aloud if he reminded her of someone, but never dared ask, too worried about triggering a bad memory.

Steve was also the only one willing to take her to church. He obliged her request to attend somewhere Catholic, as her family had been such, and soon they were regulars in a local congregation, much to Anya's delight. She enjoyed having a second home, and praying every night, Natasha discovered, helped stop the nightmares. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to pray, especially in a Catholic-approved way (she doubted they would accept a casual unbelieving 'hey God'), and so Steve was yet again called for.

It was amazing to watch him kneel at the child's bedside, looking so out of place in the ocean of pink and yellow, but confidently praying with her regardless of setting. Their words were quiet even when combined and Nat never could figure out exactly what they were saying. Instead she stood in the doorway, watching over them but giving them privacy. Eventually Steve would run his hand over her hair and tell her to sleep tight before calling her the one Russian endearment his tongue could handle: dorogoy. _Darling._

She switched between what she called him, sometimes English and sometimes Russian. Mostly she stuck to dyadya, uncle, afraid that Mama Nat would object to anything closer to 'papa'. Now and again she called him 'old man' with a wicked grin that Natasha only encouraged. He also accepted priyatel, friend. He preferred to be an uncle or a friend, although her intentions were obvious when Christmas came and she instructed JARVIS to put mistletoe in her doorway, knowing the two adults would meet there at least once when putting her to sleep.

After the nightly prayer Steve rose and met her in the doorway as always, eyebrows raised. "Are we going to obey the rules?" Without looking he knew Anya was sitting up in bed, anxious for her scheme to be successful.

The redhead raised her own eyebrows before offering her cheek. Before his lips could even meet it the child had screamed, "That's cheating!"

"Anya, you must calm down." Her mother admonished gently. "Steve and I don't have romantic feelings for each other. It'd be inappropriate to kiss on the lips."

"Those are the rules." She was persistent, even hollering for JARVIS to explain the rules they had found on the internet. Everyone online agreed- mistletoe meant a kiss on the lips. Crossing her arms, little Anya waited.

"She'll never go to bed if we don't." Steve whispered.

"She'll never go to bed if we do."

"It won't hurt Nat. Just a Christmas tradition, nothing more."

"You'd better be right old man."

It was a quick kiss. It had to be, with Anya watching. She clapped her hands and cheered upon the reward for her efforts before flopping back onto her pillows, a stuffed animal already curled into her arms. The innocence of her eyes forced them apart, forced them to remember that it was just a Christmas tradition, that there was school the next morning and presents to be wrapped in the afternoon and training to complete before breaking for the holidays.

But if Anya had not been there, had neither of them acknowledged the thousand other important things that must get done, perhaps the kiss would have extended itself. Perhaps it would have crawled beneath their skin as a permanent resident, slithered into their bellies like a parasite, forever stored in the back of their brains to replay the fireworks that had gone off in their hearts. In all honesty, it had done that anyways.

Natasha tried to disguise her panting as she kissed her daughter and left the room. She tried to tell herself that she was just a little shorted for oxygen, nothing more. But when she rounded the corner and saw Captain American waiting, another sprig of mistletoe having appeared at the door to the stairs he always took, she knew it was not for lack of oxygen.

"I'm afraid that we're going to get carried away." Her voice was quiet as to not carry, but not a whisper. Not a secret. Despite her voiced worry, he stepped closer. "You better be sure of this old man."

He grinned. "The last time I was this sure of something a German scientist pumped me full of a serum that made me a superhero."

 **Thanks for reading! Please drop me a review if you have the time. I always appreciate feedback. God bless.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Ta da! Yet another update. I hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.**

They didn't tell Anya about the second kiss or their long discussion of a serious romantic relationship afterwards. She knew as if they'd told her, as if they had announced it to the world through a megaphone. The only 'witness,' if an automated system could be called such, was JARVIS, who was sworn to secrecy as soon as a relationship went beyond a single kiss. It was uncanny how the child knew despite the lack of published knowledge.

Perhaps being late had given it away. But they'd followed their nightly discussion with another one that had carried over into breakfast. Black Widow was never late. Neither was Captain America. Perhaps it was how relaxed they were, laughing and playfully slapping at each other while they cooked together. That was another first, cooking together. Normally the cooking was left to Banner, but he was gone for Christmas, secretly celebrating the holidays with his Betty. Stark was late too, though this was custom even in his own tower, so the pair quickly threw pancakes together as Anya joined in with laughter, requesting blueberries.

"Blueberries _and_ strawberries." Steve corrected, chopping up the latter as Natasha mixed the batter. "I can't possibly include blue and not red. They're both my favorite color."

"Together they make purple. So is that your favorite color?"

"No, I like them separate. I just can't decide which I like more." He slid her several whole strawberries with a wink. "Which is your favorite?"

"Red. Like Mama's hair." It was the first time she had dropped the 'Nat' part of 'Mama Nat' and they both momentarily froze in surprise. Slowly, Natasha came around the corner and sat beside her daughter.

"Honey, are you sure you want to call me just mama?" The child nodded. "You know I'm not your first mommy. Your first mama is in Heaven. We visited where she and Papa are buried last week." Another affirmative nod. "If you want that, then you may."

"Do you want it? Can I call you Mama?"

She brushed their noses across each other with a smile. "Of course."

Breakfast was subsequently cheerful, Anya using the name 'Mama' as much as possible. They waved her goodbye on the bus, some of the other Avengers assembled to the delight of the other children. As soon as the girl was with the other students Nat could predict the conversation about parents, especially mothers, and smiled to herself. And then the talk would turn to Christmas. Nat's smile curved secretively as she turned back inside. Anya had no idea what she was getting for Christmas, had probably been too poor to celebrate the holiday in the entirety of its Western phenomenon, and Nat couldn't wait for the surprise it would be. The decorations were already up, the mistletoe and the lights and the Christmas tree and the tinsel and the thousands of miniature Santa's, dancing snow men, and breakable manger scenes. Pepper had instructed the decorating and JARVIS had gladly complied and when Anya had first seen it all she had screamed and run through every room until she got tired. After taking a nap, she explored the rest.

 _Wait until she sees the presents._ Nat had thought at the time. Now it was time to wrap said presents.

Somehow the rest of the Avengers had managed to evaporate during wrapping time, so it was left to Nat and Steve. Steve saw to it that every Christmas song ever written was played in the background as they took out the tubes of bright colored paper and the boxes of shiny bows while Nat tenderly brought all the gifts down, except the ones they'd gotten each other. It took hours of laughing and Christmas movie breaks and hot chocolate and apple cider before everything was done, a small village of presents planted around the tree.

At the end Steve produced another sprig of mistletoe, flashed her a goofy smile, and dipped her for a kiss as the floor to ceiling windows displayed snow gently blanketing New York.

 **Thank you for reading! Please drop a review if you have the time. Love you all! God bless. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for continuing to read! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's absolute fluffy. :)**

School was finally done. Natasha felt a sense of relief that for two weeks she wouldn't be working and could just enjoy the presence of her daughter. Anya was equally excited, sharing that she had one homework assignment, which sounded awful before she explained that she had to write a paragraph about her favorite memory from winter break.

"Will you help me?" She'd looked up at Steve with such large, pleading eyes that he couldn't say no. "You know English the best."

"It would be an honor."

She threw her arms around him before running to her room to drop off her backpack. The rest of the day was spent devising fun so that she would have the best paragraph in the class. Every possible and impossible idea was thrown around- Steve would take her to a candlelight Christmas Eve service, Tony would fly them all to Sydney for New Years, Nat would paint with her, they would find new books, they would have a winter picnic in Central Park, they would go ice skating, they would build a giant snowman on the roof, they'd put a heated pool on the roof and watch fireworks in it on New Year's, they'd go to Times Square to see the ball drop, they'd throw a holiday party and invite the president, and so on and so forth.

Anya was in a fit of giggles by the time they finished, and also hungry. Steve and Nat took her out to dinner to celebrate her first semester of American school and they found the fanciest place they could, with a dress code that required Steve to wear a tuxedo and Natasha to wear an evening dress. Her daughter was surprised with the first of her Christmas presents- a sparkling red dress, complete with a puffy skirt and shiny black shoes. Squealing, she insisted upon getting dressed herself, and came down the stairs to the waiting couple slowly and dramatically. JARVIS started automated applause that the two adults echoed, much to young Anya's delight.

Dinner was superb. Anya's manners were magnificent, the paparazzi weren't looking for them in such a fancy location, and obvious flirting from both Steve and Natasha only encouraged everyone's smiles. Afterwards, as yet another surprise, they took her ice skating at Rockefeller Center, Steve shrugging off the high cost of the activity. It didn't matter anyways, as the man in charge recognized their Avenger status and let them all in for free. At first Anya was worried about ruining her dress, but after assurances that the dress could be cleaned should any accident occur, she delightfully set across the ice. Nat tried to think of a moment when she felt more beautiful, but couldn't. The combination of her evening dress, Steve's hand in hers while he wore a tuxedo, and skating behind a beautiful little girl who called her mother made for the most splendid memory she could ever remember having.

The greatness only increased when Steve took them to the middle of the ice and kissed her, just as the clock rang eight. Anya squealed with delight, but soon after lost enthusiasm. School, a fancy dinner, and ice skating made her sleepy. In a moment of tenderness that Natasha would not soon forget, Steve carried the five year old both to the car and to bed, prayed by her bedside as always, and tentatively kissed her goodnight. She stirred enough to raise her own lips and kiss his cheek, but then settled back into the pillows, a plush animal gently clasped in her arms.

"You're beautiful." Nat whispered to him outside the door. "It's like you're made of love and sunshine." She smiled shyly, accepting that being with someone made you vulnerable, but ultimately that vulnerability made you stronger.

He grinned. "I'm flesh and bone, just like you."

"But you're so beautiful." She was in awe of it, how this man could lose the love of his life, be frozen for so long, wake up and fight aliens, then help this child, then fall in love with _her_ of all people. Captain American in love with Black Widow- it was laughable. And yet it was reality. Beautiful, wondrous reality. "Do you think I'm in love with you?"

"Only you can answer that Nat."

"I know." She leaned into his chest and felt safety wrap itself around her in the form of his arms. "I know."

 **Thank you for reading! I appreciate any and all reviews. God bless.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I feel like I should apologize for this once, cause it's sad, but I'm not going to because it's necessary. I would say 'enjoy' but you probably won't. Good luck.**

"Why did Uncle Steve have to leave so close to Christmas?" The question hadn't left Anya's mouth since she had woken to find him gone. "When is he coming back?" She was never satisfied with the truth: I don't know. Natasha said the three terrible words over and over again, the other Avengers and Pepper and JARVIS echoing the lack of knowledge. "But doesn't someone know something?" Vague answers made her spiral back to Russian, her mother and JARVIS the only people/things that could understand her worries and pleas.

Natasha felt defeated. Fury wouldn't pick up his phone and probably wouldn't answer any questions anyways. JARVIS couldn't let her into the file that held the Captain's information. Even Tony, the famous know-it-all, could only shake his head at her with a shrug. The old man was gone, along with his favorite duffle bag, fighting suit, and his shield. There wasn't even a note. His cell phone was even still sitting on his nightstand, his wallet still in the back pocket of his tuxedo.

The team grew anxious as hours passed with no contact from anyone at SHEILD, despite multiple calls and emails. Tony flew to headquarters and was told by a secretary that there had been a security threat, that Captain America had been needed to handle the situation, and that no superiors would be available for at least the next week.

"The next week?" Nat fumed, pacing the kitchen while Anya napped. "That'll be Christmas! Anya's been-" she was caught between an aggravated scream and a defeated sob. Christmas was going to be perfect. Steve had been so excited to watch his honorary niece open the present he had made specifically for her. And Anya had picked out something special for him too, had triple checked with her mother that Uncle Steve would like it.

She stormed out, running up the stairs and throwing herself onto Steve's bed before screaming into the pillows. In seclusion, she let the tears fall. What if he never came back? He could be anywhere, with people that might kidnap and torture him. Or would they be satisfied with a good beheading? Would SHEILD receive a severed finger in the mail? Perhaps a ransom video would be shipped in. What would she tell Anya if news of his death reached them?

 _Anya, darling, do you remember how your parents went to Heaven because of the bad people? Well, your favorite Uncle Steve, the one I know you secretly wanted to be your father, went to Heaven because of other bad people._

She'd revert back to Russian, to the child still dealing with grief and nightmares. She'd miss school and possibly refuse food. It would destroy her, if Uncle Steve never came home. _And me too._ She allowed herself the thought. _The first time I actually love someone, they have to be an international hero that has just enough human in him to die._

She called Fury again and, surprise of all surprises, he actually picked up. "We're on break for five minutes Natasha. That's all you have."

"You have to get him out. Now."

"Natasha, this isn't a discussion-"

"No, it's an order. You will send someone else. Anyone else. You will bring Steve home with all his limbs and all his mental capacity by Christmas Eve, do you understand?"

"Just because you're his girlfriend-"

"Not for me. Forget about me. _Send_ me, if you have to. But Anya can't lose someone else. She loves him."

"And what makes you think he won't come back, but you will?"

"Women can get out of certain situations if they offer the required agreements."

"Maybe KGB women do, but not Avenger's. The Captain is the best one for this job. I'll try to get him home Natasha. But no promises."

"Tell me where he is, for Anya."

"I can't. Now I have to go."

The subsequent click only increased her anger, which made her throw the phone across the room and tear a pillow until the fluff fell around her in clouds. More tears came, blurring the photos on the wall, blinding her from doing anything but crying on the bed, defeated. She thought of putting her suit on, sneaking into headquarters, and demanding she go join him. But that only added to the fear that Anya would lose someone. One wrong move and the child would lose both her mother and her hoped-for father. Who would raise her then? Who would wrap her in their arms and explain in gentle Russian where second Mommy went? No, she had to stay. Stay and be powerless. Normally she had more self-control than this, but motherhood had changed her. She had no choice but to show her emotions, no matter how weak.

"Mommy?" Anya wandered in, clutching a stuffed animal and rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Is he back yet?"

She brushed her tears away and tried to disguise the sound of anguish that was shredding her vocal chords. "Not yet darling. But I spoke to someone in charge. They're going to bring him home as soon as possible. But right now he's busy saving people."

"Oh."

She climbed onto the bed with her mother, buried her face in the leftovers of the one pillow and the other full ones and went back to her nap. With nothing better to do, Nat curled herself around her daughter and allowed the scent of Captain America to lure her to sleep.

 **Thank you for reading! I will try to drop a new chapter soon so you don't have to worry too much.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! I hope you guys like this. It's kinda fluffy, but also sad, so prepare yourself.**

"Oh Nat." He was kissing her slowly, perfectly, like something out of a Disney movie.

They were melting together, boundaries gone and consent given. It was beautiful, how she had always imagined being with someone should be. He knew her, knew everything about her, and still wanted her like this. He loved Anya, he was kind, he was generous, he was brave, he was strong, he was . . . changing.

His pupils were dilating, glowing blue like the Tesseract. His voice was changing, growing rough. And his gentle hands were sliding onto her neck and growing tight.

"Steve." His only answer was a tighter grip. " _Steve_." It was a choked-out whisper.

"Mommy?" Anya was suddenly in the doorway, witnessing it all. "Daddy?"

"You deserve this." The three words slipped through his teeth, completely ignoring the little girl he had once adored. "Payback."

Nat woke up panting, sweat making her pajamas cling to her skin. For a moment the darkness of her bedroom sent a wave of paranoia through her, but JARVIS realized she was awake and turned the lights on low, illuminating the dangerous corners. Next, she checked on Anya, who was sleeping peacefully in her own bed. Finally, she crept down to Steve's room, only to find it depressingly empty. She shook the last remnants of the nightmare away by looking at all his pictures. His mother. His high school graduation. Him and Bucky playing baseball. His first art show. Him selling war bonds. The Howling Commando's. Him with all the original Avenger's. Him with each individual Avenger, including Hawkeye's family.

"Please come home." She whispered to each photograph, as if the still, captured him could take the message to the living, breathing one. "Please."

Tony gently woke her up several hours later and explained that Anya was coloring upstairs with Pepper. He guided her back to her room like she was blind, gathered towels and put her in the bathroom with JARVIS controlling water and soap, and waited for her to emerge. Despite the warm water splashing over her, she came out in the same old clothes and with the same lost look on her face. Natasha Romanoff was a fighter and she was undeniably strong with or without Steve, but love ignored all of this. Love crashed down on her and made her forget everything that used to encourage her to go on. Later, she would blush at how depressed she had become and deny the weakness. But in the moment, she needed to be weak. Everyone needs a moment where they permit themselves to be weak. No one can be continually strong.

"Nat, he'll come back. You have to be strong until then."

"I dreamt of him. Over and over. He killed me then he loved me then he killed me."

"He would never kill you Nat. He loves you. Remember that."

The only thing that raised her from her stupor was Anya. Unaware that her mother's demeanor had changed at all, or perhaps all too aware and knowledgeable of her need, she dragged her over to the coffee table for coloring. After coloring there was a required snowball fight with the other Avenger's in Central Park, which they all enjoyed until the media found them, which sent them back to the tower. Hot chocolate was served and Anya insisted on napping in Nat's room, where the nightmares cowered at the sight of a resilient little girl. Gradually, Nat returned to normal. At least she felt more normal. She stopped hiding from shadows, stopped panicking every time a plane flew overhead. By the time dinner was served, an authentic Russian meal that Tony concocted simply because his brain was too brilliant to think of any other way of helping, she could laugh again.

She went to bed that night much calmer, accepting Anya's offer to sleep in her bed with her. They cuddled, imagining the beauty Christmas would be, before fading into sleep.

 **Thank you for reading! I love all the reviews I keep getting, you guys are awesome. If you feel the need, keep dropping them. God bless! :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Ta da! Another chapter. This will have a happier ending, I promise. Enjoy. :)**

Two days later, her cell phone went off during dinner. Anya frowned disapprovingly before Nat gave her an extra slice of lasagna and escorted herself out, Pepper and Tony providing distraction.

"He came back Nat." She breathed a sigh of relief, ready to thank Fury before realizing the line was suspiciously silent.

"What's wrong? I can tell something's wrong."

"He's-he's hurt pretty badly. There was a bomb we didn't know about, and-"

"Where is he? I'm coming."

"Our hospital in D.C. You'll have to take a jet."

"Not a problem."

With a quick kiss and roundabout explanation to her daughter, she was in Tony's plane and on the way to D.C in less than an hour. By the time she landed she was more on edge than when she had ended the phone call. Thankful for a taxi driver sympathetic to an injured boyfriend and therefore willing to speed, she was by his side sooner than some of his doctors.

"Induced coma." That's what his main nurse opened with. "No brain damage, but enough head trauma that if he wasn't pumped full of super soldier serum he would probably be dead. However, we'll be pulling him out of that in a few days. We just need to make sure his brain heals properly. He'll heal to have complete mental capacity because of the serum, but healing will take time regardless. He also has four cracked ribs, a bruised lung, a chipped jaw and a torn shoulder. He needed two stitches on one leg and five on the other from shrapnel, one of which went deep enough that he might have a limp for a while, though we expect no permanent scarring or damage. He's not dehydrated, will remember who you are, and can leave by Christmas. Any questions?"

"No, thank you." She took a shaky breath as the nurse closed the door, then sat on his bed. "This is how you come back? I beg you to come home, but when you do you're half destroyed. And I know the doctors have all that confidence in your German serum and I want to have faith like that, but I'm terrified Steve Rogers." The words stuck in her throat. Black Widow wasn't terrified of anything. Apparently, Natasha Romanoff was. "I'm terrified that you can't heal from this one and you won't recognize me or Anya and that the frail heart I gave to you will be completely shattered." She took another breath. "Please don't remember any of that when you wake up. Just remember that I love you, okay? I know I was questioning it before you left, but I know now. I know that you are one of the most beautiful human beings on this planet and though you're nearly immortal and I'm not, I want to be with you. I want to be with you because you're understanding and kind and hopeful and loving. None of those characteristics come easily to me, but I will do my best to produce them for you. Because I love you Stephen Rogers." A smile crept onto her lips. "I love you."

She stayed with him all night, catching a few hours of sleep in the provided hospital chair. Waking up the next morning angered her twisted muscles, but she'd certainly been in more pain on previous missions, so she brushed it off. The doctors came and went, as did the nurses, and she waited for any new revelations. None came. Instead, she played his favorite TV show ( _Mash_ ), popular 40s music, and quietly sang every lullaby she could think of. When Anya called she took the call on speaker so that he could hear her voice and by the time dinner came, she was exhausted. Being so positive took every ounce of her being and it was beginning to make her weary. She snapped at a nurse who was late bringing water. She refused to answer Fury's call. It was only when Clint stepped into the doorway and forced her to a hotel that she realized she'd been up for forty-eight hours, not twenty-four like she'd thought.

"Sleep." It was a command, not a question, and she realized that she didn't have the strength to argue, not after an physically and emotionally long two days.

Falling into bed at ten on Wednesday night, she woke up around eleven Thursday morning. Clint had left food and unpacked her overnight bag, along with a note: _Take your time, I'll stay with him and call you if anything happens._

At one, when she had finally showered and eaten and was deciding that it was acceptable for her to relax over one episode of _Friends_ before returning to her captain, Clint called. "They're pulling him out of the coma at two."

"I'm on the way."

She called Anya on the way, telling her that Steve had been asleep but was waking up and would be home for Christmas. The joy in her daughter's voice gave her the final strength she needed to walk into her boyfriend's hospital room and wait for him to open his eyes. And when those beautiful blue eyes finally fluttered open, she felt such relief she thought she'd soar through the ceiling.

"Nat." His throat was dry, but he said her name regardless. "I came back." His smile was small, but visible, and it took all her self-control to not leap on top of him.

"I love you." She kissed him, felt those lips that she was afraid would never be warm and alive again.

"I love you too."

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave me a review if you have the time. I love you guys! All the reviews I've gotten so far make me SO HAPPY. God bless!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I had to include Steve's homecoming. It was too important to both me and Anya to write anything otherwise. I hope you enjoy it!**

"Uncle Steve!" Anya ran to him when he came through the doors, but skidded to a stop when she saw his limp and heard his pant. "St-Steve?"

"Hey sweetheart." He flashed her a smile that only helped a little. "I'm okay, really. I got hurt by some bad people, but those bad people aren't coming back. And I won't need the cane for long, I promise."

She became shy in the presence of a pained super soldier, a new experience that she'd never expected. "I missed you."

"I heard you helped Momma."

"I did!" She smiled proudly as Natasha came into the room carrying both his duffle bag and hers. "When Mommy was sad I helped her feel better."

His eyebrows twitched the minutest amount as he threw a suspicious glance at his girlfriend, who pretended not to notice. "I'm glad you did that. Now I have someone I can trust when I go stop the bad people next time."

"You'll have to leave again?" Her face dropped, her eyes adopting fear that they hadn't seen since bringing her home.

"Not for a while. For now, I'm all yours." He gave her his biggest smile, which got him a hesitant smile in return, before heading back to his room with Nat.

He sat down on the bed in silence as she put his clothes away, JARVIS giving him the standard welcome before silence descended again. She waited for him to start small talk about the plane ride home, the Christmas decorations that Anya had made and hung in his absence, the details of his mission, but he made no noise. Apparently the floor was so important that it stole all of his attention.

She let him stay in his own world for as long as she could stand before slamming a drawer shut and waking him from his stupor. "Do you really have nothing to say? After everything that happened, all you can do is stare at the floor?"

"What do you want me to say?"

The question stopped her. His tone of voice was the exact same as the one she used years prior when they drove a stolen- borrowed- truck to New Jersey. _Who do you want me to be?_ He wanted a friend. And now he was asking her a similar question, but she didn't have a concrete answer. She wanted him to talk to her like a friend, of course, but he was more than that. One of the first men she'd been able to love. Her partner. He was trustworthy and kind and smart and brave and all those traits normally meant he could talk about his experiences and feelings as they happened. Except for now. Now he was looking at her with eyes that said he had nothing to say, but he would tell her whatever she wanted to hear.

"Who are you?" The three words slipped out, not accusatory but curious. Nearly dying affected people, especially when it happened twice, and she wanted to know what this experience had done, why it had changed him so much.

"I'm Stephen Grant Rogers, roughly one hundred years old and born on July 4th. I'm a super soldier that thought he killed Hydra but apparently failed despite giving his life for it, but now I'm a superhero so technically it's all okay. My entire family is dead for various reasons, my best friend is an untraceable super spy running across the globe alone, and my home is a magical tower created by a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist that also owns a metal suit that helps him be a superhero. My girlfriend was a master assassin but is now a superhero and a mom and her daughter wants to adopt me as her dad. I have survived death twice, which doesn't make any sense, but I keep doing it so I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever die and see the people I love again. Until then, I will continue to save a world I'm too old to understand and do my best to not look like a freak while doing so." He swallowed roughly. "Did I miss anything?"

"Yes." Her lips trembled as she continued for him. "You forgot that you help bring justice to a broken world. You helped your best friend realize who he was. You love with all of your being. You're an artist. You are so much more than a man who survived death for nothing. And I'm so sorry that's how you view yourself. You survived death to continue helping us, us silly humans that need so much guidance." She sat beside him and slowly entwined their fingers before whispering, "You survived death for me."

"And Anya."

She smiled. "And Anya."

"Speaking of Anya, she said you were sad."

"Of course I was sad. You were gone. What if," her voice caught in her throat, "what if you didn't come back? What would I have told her? That another adult she loved got killed by bad people?"

His jaw twitched. He hadn't thought of that. "You would have told her I was in a better place. Her parents taught her about Heaven. She goes to church. She'd understand."

"She's five. Even if she does understand what Heaven is, she would have questions. Why did Uncle Steve have to go? Who are the bad people? Will the bad people find her? Will she ever get to see Uncle Steve again?"

He swallowed hard. "I had to go because God wanted me with Him. The bad people won't find her because they're men in Europe. She'll see me again if she believes in Jesus. There are always answers Nat."

"That doesn't mean I want to answer those questions. No more secret missions, please."

He turned to look at her, to try and explain that Hydra didn't exactly publish their murdering schedule, but her eyes were too green and stern to deny her the one request. "I'll tell you when I leave for missions."

She relaxed into him. "Thank you."

They fell asleep together that night, innocently wrapped in each others arms.

 **Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate your reviews. God bless. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**The few Russian words I use in this chapter are from Google Translate, so I apologize if they are wrong. Please enjoy Christmas fluff!**

Anya pounced on their bed early Christmas morning, the sun still pink in the December sky. "Prosnut'sya! Wake up!"

"Zachem?" Natasha rolled over and tried to hide her smile. "Is there something important happening today?"

"Da! Christmas!"

"Christmas is today?" Steve rolled over and looked at his girlfriend quizzically. "Net, no, it's next week."

"Net! It's today! Vstavay! Get up!"

Laughing, the two peeled back the covers. Pausing only to grab Steve's cane, the trio made their way to the main floor where the Christmas tree and the rest of the Avengers waited. Sparkling presents, bubbly hot chocolate, and silly holiday music greeted them as they settled onto the couch for the spectacle. The entire day was planned around Anya. It was her first holiday away from her first home, away from her birth parents, and they wanted the day to be perfect. Dressed in their pajamas, the adults organized the presents into stacks next to the receiver until everyone was equal and Anya's patience had been worn thin.

"Can I open them now? Please?"

"Yes."

Tearing paper, tossing ribbon, and carefully setting aside pretty bows, Anya oohed and aahed over every present given to her. The coloring book Tony and Pepper gave her featured moments from her life: the helicarrier flying, the New York skyline, the Avenger's tower, her school, a picnic in Central Park, and more. She hugged them tight and promised to lovingly fill in every page. Next was Banner's gift, who had returned from his visit with Betty that morning. It was a nail care kit with a pack of nail polish and a set of three lip glosses to play with.

"You're already beautiful, but I know you like playing with Mommy's makeup, so I thought you'd enjoy it."

"I'll wear it to our next fancy dinner." She assured him, hugging him to solidify the point.

Thor was busy spending Christmas with Jane, but he'd left an envelope with Anya's name on it that was opened with much anticipation by Natasha, who read aloud, "Dearest Anya, I could not find a present worthy of such a lady, so I have brought one from my world. Inside my rooms you will find a young steed to be cared for and raised. She will answer to the name Rose, as I believe that is a plant from your planet. Love, Thor."

Eyes wide, Anya looked up at her mother. "I have a pony?"

Forcing a smile, Natasha answered, "Apparently." _Next time we will discuss gifts with him. He can't just be giving Asgardian horses to five year olds._ "Let's go see."

It was true. Thor had left an eight-legged pony tied to his bedpost in a pile of hay and grass with bowls of water. A pink ribbon was tied loosely around her neck and when Anya called her 'Rose' she raised her head. Squealing with delight, the child ran to the horse's side and gave it a hug, babbling about how she didn't know why she had eight legs but she loved her anyways. She swore to come back and play with her once all the other presents were open.

Despite having been given the ultimate childhood present, Anya was still delighted by the new doll Natasha gave her, the new dress from the Barton family, and the diary from Fury. The last present was from Steve, who handed it over with a shy smile. She opened it carefully, sensing the weight of the gift from a man she might not have gotten to see again.

The entire room gasped when they saw it. At first they thought it was a photograph, but JARVIS swore he hadn't printed anything and so eyes turned back to the captain, who shyly admitted to drawing the masterpiece. Anya was front and center, smiling brightly with her birth parents on both sides. Surrounding her parents as an outer shell were the Avengers, Natasha and Steve closest to the center behind her birth parents, the rest of the superhero family framing them. It was beautiful, with lifelike shadows and vivid colors.

When the child didn't say anything, Steve worried that the present was too serious for her too appreciate. However, upon closer inspection, it became obvious that she was holding back tears. Thanking him in a tearful mixture of Russian and English, she carefully climbed into his lap and gave him a loose, gentle hug.

"I love you Uncle Steve." She whispered against him, the artwork pinched in her hand as if dropping it was a sin.

"I love you too Anya." He kissed her on the head as Natasha smiled. If any of the Avengers were cut out to be a father (besides Clint, who already was), it was the Captain.

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Wish me luck, as I finally get to see Civil War tomorrow. Regardless of the outcome of the movie, another chapter will be published. God bless. :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Guys, Civil War was incredible. You have to go see it as soon as you can. Anyways, here's a happy chapter. Enjoy!**

It was surprising, how thoughtful Captain America could be. His gift to Natasha was a beautiful set of diamond earrings that Anya insisted she wear for the rest of the day despite the fact that they had planned to stay in their pajamas. Nevertheless, she obliged and Steve threw her a bright smile every time the light caught the sparkle on her ears. Later, as a private Christmas gift, he asked if he could hold her through the night again. Her presence helped chase his nightmares away and she could not deny him that one innocent request.

Waking up the next morning was another type of beautiful. The smell of pancakes had permeated the layers of walls and when she tried to move she found herself wound tightly inside Steve's arms. Kissing him awake, each of them got ready and made their way to breakfast laughing along the hallway. Anya was already there, greeting them with a sticky face that Tony was proud of creating. At ten in the morning she had already put on the new dress from Uncle Clint and was insisting they walk around the city to show it off.

"Very well." Steve beamed. "We'll need to get going soon anyways."

"Why?" Nat's brow crinkled, trying to remember if they'd planned anything for the day.

"We're going to a show at Broadway at noon." He pulled the tickets from his pocket with a flourish that sent Anya bouncing across the kitchen. "Surprise?"

She kissed the grin off of him before going to help her daughter clean up.

 _Cinderella_ on Broadway was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. Anya was enraptured by everything she saw and heard and Natasha could feel herself becoming a child again as she watched her child enjoy the simplicity of magic. She was so caught up by the actors, music, and Anya that she didn't realize that Steve had moved out of his seat and was proposing as Prince Charming proposed to Cinderella.

"Nat!" It was a fierce whisper that finally got her to look away from the magic and when she did she bit back a gasp.

"Steve? Are you-"

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova, I love you. Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife for the rest of our lives?"

With quivering lips she accepted and kissed him just as the wedding bells pealed for the fairy tale characters. Anya kept looking between them and the stage, holding back a squeal that everyone was getting a happy ending. When they stepped out of the theater she whooped and allowed herself to be swung up on Steve's hip.

"You said yes! I knew he was asking and it was the biggest secret of my life, but you said yes, so it's not a secret anymore."

"You knew?"

Their conspiring smiles said it all. Staring at the diamond winking on her hand, she laughed with them. Over ice cream Anya asked every question possible about marriage and weddings and when they finally settled her down for her afternoon nap, Natasha didn't know how to feel. She was getting married. They hadn't been together for that long, they'd never even been on a real date, but he loved her enough to propose. He asked Anya's permission. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And unlike with Peggy, he would not wait.

Lying on top of him on her bed feeling his heartbeat against her cheek, she quietly voiced her doubts despite her happiness. "Don't you think we should wait until we've dated more?"

"Do you want to wait?"

"I don't know. I know that I love you and I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. But I'm," she swallowed hard and said the one word she despised over all others, "I'm scared. I'm not exactly marriage material."

"I'm a frozen, undead super solider from the 40s. Do you really think I'm marriage material Nat?"

She chuckled. "I suppose not." Then she voiced another concern. "Do you still love Peggy?"

He swallowed thickly. "I'll always love Peggy. But we can't be together and I'm accepting that. I'm glad she found someone else. She moved on. Now it's my turn." She could hear the smile enter his voice. "And I can think of no one better to be with than you. A woman who understands that I have demons, who loves fiercely, who is brave and protective and beautiful and brilliant. A mother. You are so many wonderful things Natasha. I would have to be stupid to not want to keep this forever."

"What if your forever is longer than mine?"

"Then I promise to love Anya for you until mine is over. And you will be my last kiss until I see you again."

For the second time that day, she was moved to tears. And in private with her fiancée, she let them drop, for they were tears of happiness like she had never shed before.

 **Thanks for reading! One more chapter.**


	20. Chapter 20

**This is it! The last chapter. Thank you for sticking with me this long. Thank you for all the reviews. Enjoy!**

It took a year to plan the wedding, a war in Rwanda interrupting their plans slightly, as they recovered an infinity stone that Tony locked away, never to see the light of day again. Anya grew fast and beautifully, blossoming into a brilliant six-year-old. When the Avengers left for Rwanda, she had healed enough to stay with Pepper and pray for their safe return instead of worrying. She was delighted when they returned home in one piece and asked her to be their flower girl. Walking down the aisle in a red dress not unlike the one she wore over Christmas a year prior, she made Steve want to cry. That was his daughter. And he couldn't be more proud.

Tears did flow when Natasha appeared at the back of the church. Despite not being Catholic, she agreed to a wedding in the church Anya and Steve had been regularly attending for two years. Her white dress made her look like an angel, the mermaid style showing off her curves while the veil over her face hid her own tears. Her daughter had sprinkled red rose petals over the floor for her. Captain America was waiting for her. Nick Fury was walking her down the aisle. Wanda Maximoff looked beautiful in her own red dress as she carried Nat's short train. Fellow Avengers and their families filled the pews. It felt like they had stepped into a perfect fairy tale.

Their first kiss on the front steps of the church was photographed and belonged in a magazine, Steve in his navy suit dipping Natasha in white while Anya clapped in red. It would remain Natasha and Steve's favorite picture for the next four years, until they adopted James and took professional photos in Central Park. Their son, though not related to them by blood, acted so much like his father that no one questioned his paternity. Anya taught him Russian as soon as he started babbling and Steve learned with him so that the entire family became bilingual. It became common for a mixture of English and Russian to sprout from their mouths when the parents picked up their children from school and was also useful when the two finally met Uncle Bucky, who also spoke Russian.

Anya would never forgot the small smile that crept onto his face when the two greeted him with a simple 'zdravstvuyte' (hello). He responded kindly, shaking their hands gently with a gloved hand that James immediately questioned. Throwing a look back at their parents, he removed the glove and displayed the metal arm that would have frightened any other five year old. This five year old, however, grew up with Captain America and Black Widow in an Avengers tower before they moved to their current home, and so he only had one question.

"Did Uncle Tony build it for you?"

"Net, a doctor did."

"Okay. Will you come play with me?"

The man cautiously looked back to the parents again, who gave a reassuring smile and an affirmative nod. "Sure kid. Tell me your name again?"

"James." He replied simply, missing the third backwards glance at his father. "I'm named after Daddy's best friend."

Composing himself, the brunette replied, "That's really cool James. Your dad must have loved him very much."

"He loves him like a brother. Present tense." He corrected, continuing to lead his new friend down the hallway to his room.

"I'll remember that."

"Love is always present tense Uncle Bucky."

"I guess you're right James. Who told you that?"

"No one told me." He pulled out his Legos. "I just know."

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you guys like the ending. I tried to make it happy, considering everything I've done to the characters and everything that happened during the Civil War. Leave some reviews if you feel like it. I will try to incorporate your advice into my future writings. I love all of you. God bless!**


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